Betrayal
by Breea
Summary: Black spots danced before her eyes as the Romulan crushed her neck. She felt her fingers wrap around the hilt of her knife, a six inch blade she kept razor sharp. She pulled it out of her pocket and with the strength she had left she stabbed backward. She felt the impact of the knife as it went into flesh and the coppery scent of blood filled the air.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: May contain some mild spoilers for STID, though the whole story occurs after the movie takes place.

**Chapter 1**

The target console was two steps away. She silently closed the distance and inserted a disc into a slot on the surface. With a few quick touches on the screen she was copying the files she needed. She flipped a look over her shoulder as she inevitably waited the few seconds it took to copy. The coast was still clear. Her presence hadn't been detected. Yet.

There was a beep to signal the copy was finished. She grabbed the disc and shoved it into the concealed pocket inside her jacket as she spun around to leave. Glancing at the vintage watch on her wrist she saw she had less than five minutes to get to the rendezvous spot. She quickened her pace down the corridor.

The ship was large, bigger than any other she'd been on. It was made of dark metals and lit with red running lights that threw every crevice into shadow. It would be easy for her to hide if need be but it also made it difficult to see if someone was coming. The panels at the various doors were marked with Romulan script; she only knew the basics of the language. A quick getaway into any of these rooms was beyond her ability to decipher their technology. She had to hope her escape went as undetected as her entrance.

She turned the final corner, relieved the mission had been more than merely successful; it had been easy. She ran into a wall. Taking a step back she looked up and found a Romulan staring down at her, looking as stunned as she felt. Her senses were on high alert so she sprang into action before he did. Romulans were stronger than humans so she needed to use his momentary surprise to her advantage.

She sent a booted foot to his abdomen, putting all her force behind the kick. He stumbled backward a few steps but kept his balance. She stepped forward with a twist, aiming her elbow for his nose but he backed up at the last second so she only glanced his face. He had regained his senses and reached up to grab her by the arm, fury distorting his features.

She tried to wrench out of his grip but he clamped down harder. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he pulled her close, crushing her back into his chest. She stomped on his foot as hard as she could but it affected him no more than a butterfly landing. He squeezed harder, bringing his arm up around her neck, blocking her airway.

She continued to struggle, trying to move her hands to her pocket where she kept her knife. A flash of her commander offering her a blaster before the mission went through her head. She should have taken it.

Black spots danced before her eyes as the Romulan crushed her neck. She felt her fingers wrap around the hilt of her knife, a six inch blade she kept razor sharp. She pulled it out of her pocket and with the strength she had left she stabbed backward. She felt the impact of the knife as it went into flesh and the coppery scent of blood filled the air.

The Romulan cried out and loosened his grip, just enough for her to slide out from his grip and back away. Her hand slipped from the blood covered knife and she could see it protruding from his thigh when she turned to face him. Green blood poured from his leg in fast rivulets; the pace of the bleeding made it look like she hit an artery.

The Romulan, surprisingly, stumbled away from her. She had anticipated in his anger he would rush her and try to take her out again. Instead, he staggered a few steps in the opposite direction, leaning against the wall of the corridor for support. Too late she realized what he was doing. He was at a console on the wall. He was going to alert the entire ship to her presence.

"No!" She forgot about being stealthy and yelled as she rushed at him. He gave her a menacing grin, using the console as his sole support for standing. His fingers moved to the flashing symbols on the screen. He was going to push them before she could stop him.

There was a loud blast and a flash of light that stopped her in her tracks. The Romulan slumped forward and fell to the ground. _Before_ he hit the symbols on the console. She looked past his prone body to a man standing down the corridor. Her partner, Patrick, was standing there, putting his blaster away. He had been wise enough to bring the weapon when offered.

There was no time for gratitude. They needed to be at the specific coordinates in the cargo bay in order to be beamed off the ship covertly. She pulled her knife from the now dead Romulan's leg and followed Patrick into the bay. Thirty seconds later they were standing on their own ship, Commander O'Rian glaring at both of them.

"Mission successful, Sir." She reported, standing at attention.

The commander looked down at her green blood-stained hand before turning angry eyes on her face again. "I doubt I'd call that successful."

"In and out, without detection. One Romulan engaged us. He never had a chance to alert the crew. The Empire will never know it was us." Patrick interjected, also standing at attention. "The information was successfully downloaded."

Both she and Patrick reached into their concealed pockets and produced discs. Commander O'Rian snatched them away and looked at the small objects carefully. After a moment's consideration he sighed and shook his head. Anger still bright in his eyes he waved the two agents off.

"I expect full reports at oh eight hundred on the dot. Is that clear?" He demanded.

"Yes, Sir." They replied in unison.

"Dismissed." The commander turned and stalked away from the teleportation pad.

She turned to look at Patrick, relaxing a bit. "Thanks." She told him with a tight smile.

"What are partners for?" He replied, slapping her on the shoulder before stepping off the teleportation pad. She followed after him. They turned their separate ways in the corridor. Though she trusted Patrick with her life they weren't what one would consider friends. You couldn't get too close to people in this line of work. It was a dangerous job and personal connections could get you killed. Being an agent meant people you worked with were acquaintances only. The two of them were headed off to their designated rooms; they probably wouldn't speak again until their next mission was assigned.

She was grateful for the break. There was always a build up to the missions; planning and training and practicing for the assignment took more energy and effort than the actual mission itself. Then the mission would happen, which had her senses on high alert and her brain working on overdrive. When it was all over she felt like she could sleep for a week. It drained her emotionally as well as physically.

She fell onto her bunk with a sigh, draping one arm over her eyes. She knew she had to work on that report but she wanted nothing more than to sleep in that moment. She felt her consciousness slipping away as welcome darkness pulled her into a dream.

A loud buzz jolted her awake into a sitting position. Had she actually slept or was she just about to fall asleep? A glance at her watch told her she'd been out for at around two hours.

"Lieutenant Jacobs." A familiar voice said over the speakers in her room.

"Yes, Commander." She replied, scrambling to stand at attention out of habit though he couldn't see her.

"My office. Now." He ordered before the beep that signaled the communication was over.

She sighed. Great. She was probably going to be scolded for killing the Romulan. Never mind that _their_ spies had killed humans plenty of times, she was going to get reamed out for one unpreventable death. It wasn't her fault the Romulan had chosen that moment to be in her path. She hoped that the commander was going to just yell at her. She didn't want to be demoted.

Commander O'Rian's office was the picture of orderly. It was sparsely decorated, as they were only temporarily on a ship, but what was there looked neat and well thought out. Everything he would need or want was at his fingertips. Without a word he motioned her into the chair across from his desk.

There were a few uncomfortable seconds where he stared at her. His graying hair was kept short but brushed forward to conceal a slightly receding hairline. His brown eyes usually betrayed his emotions easily; she could always tell if he were angry, amused, or worried by his eyes. His lined face, however, never betrayed emotion. He rarely smiled or frowned, at least in the presence of his subordinates. Right now he was unsettling; his eyes told her nothing.

"Sir?" She asked hesitantly. "You wanted to see me?"

"Milani," he sighed heavily as he said her name. "I have to send you back to Starfleet Headquarters."

It _was_ a demotion. She felt panic rise in her throat as her ears started ringing. It wasn't fair. She couldn't respond, her voice was lost to her.

"It's for an assignment. The Admiral asked for my best." He motioned toward her. "You're it."

Her heart went from sinking to soaring at his words. It gave her a head rush and she felt a little sick from the roller coaster of emotions. "But I thought..." the words tumbled from her mouth before her head could stop them.

"That you were in trouble?" Commander O'Rian shook his head. "No, Lieutenant Jacobs, you are not in trouble. The mission was successful. One Romulan death as collateral damage is acceptable, though all missions should strive to have a zero mortality rate." He pressed his lips together in a thin line. She could see he was trying to decide if he should say what was on his mind. She waited in silence, letting him come to a conclusion on his own.

"Milani, Patrick told me about what he saw. You managed to get away from a Romulan who was determined to kill you. That shows strength and wit. But you didn't have a blaster. That Romulan could have alerted everyone if Patrick hadn't shown up when he did."

"I don't like guns, sir. Blasters or otherwise." She reminded him. He knew this, and he knew why. He'd never questioned it before.

"I know." He acknowledged. "But consider, in the future, learning to utilize them. They can make a difference, if need be."

She nodded stiffly to let him know she heard him. But she didn't think she would take his advice. "When do I leave for Headquarters, Sir?"

Commander O'Rian pulled out some papers from under the stack in front of him. He grabbed a stamp from the drawer to his right and slammed the inked side onto the paper. "Now, Lieutenant. Immediately."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Phoebe tugged at the hem of her uniform. She wasn't sure whose archaic idea it was to put female Starfleet members in short dresses but whoever it was she'd like to strangle them right now. The blue dress hit mid-thigh and though it covered her up conservatively it wasn't comfortable to move around in. She was a doctor, she had to be comfortable to do her job. With an irritated sigh she stepped forward to the table where a commander was checking in everyone before they boarded the shuttle.

"Jacobs, Phoebe." He said in a bored voice when her info popped up on his screen. He scrolled through her file with a lazy flip of his finger. "Senior medical officer and ship psychologist." He didn't sound impressed. "That's a new one." He motioned for her to get aboard the loading shuttle with a flick of his wrist.

Phoebe found a seat near the back of the small shuttle. This particular shuttle would only seat about twenty people, the last of the crew members to board The Enterprise. Most people had already been on the ship for at least the last two weeks.

Her assignment had been last minute. Admiral Jensen had called her into his office specifically to appoint her to the crew. Not only was the ship in need of a medical officer, her background in psychology was what they really wanted. The senior officers of The Enterprise had recently been through a lot. Admiral Jensen had been apprehensive of letting them go on a five year exploration mission.

"You understand my hesitation," the admiral had said to her in their meeting. "Kirk has never been known for his stability and they have all suffered a great loss, not to mention the stress of the situation that happened merely months ago." He had sighed in resignation. "However, Pike had pleaded his case so passionately and a few of my senior commanders have agreed with him. Kirk should get this mission."

"So I will be the ship's counselor?" Phoebe had tried to clarify his intention. "I didn't know ships needed those."

"In the future I think all ships should have a psychologist of some sort. There is a lot that goes on out in space. A safe place, a safe _person_, to talk to is essential. The longer the missions get, the more I think someone like you will be critical to have on board." The admiral then stood from his desk. "You will still have senior medical officer duties, rounds in the med bay, and Dr. McCoy will still be your commanding officer. But you are to meet with all senior officers at least once every two weeks and send reports every four to six weeks. The crew has been apprised of these orders."

"Reports?" Phoebe had frowned at him. "Sir, doctor-patient confidentiality precludes me-"

He had raised a hand to stop her. "You don't have to give me details. Just updates, let me know that the crew I sent out is stable and mentally healthy. It will put my mind at ease since I am worried about this mission. Five years is a long time. The first mission of this capacity in our human history." He had given her a purposeful look before finishing. "The Enterprise crew can't screw it up."

In the shuttle Phoebe closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall behind her. She wondered if she should have refused. She felt the weight of his words even now, days after they had spoke. It was a large responsibility he was putting on her. Still, she was determined to be up to the task.

As the last crew member boarded she sat forward to buckle herself in. The short red dress caught her eye; another female crew member. Her eyes went up to the girl's long dark hair, pulled back into a pony tail, her tan skin, and serious expression. Even though she couldn't see detail from this distance Phoebe knew her eyes would be green as new leaves in springtime. Eyes that matched her own.

Milani.

Phoebe didn't say anything to her sister. The shuttle was getting ready for takeoff so there was no way to talk to her. Instead, Phoebe was left to wonder. What was her sister doing on this ship?

Phoebe and her sister Milani had been close growing up. When they went to Starfleet Academy they had drifted apart. They had been in two very separate fields. Phoebe had been diverted into the medical field almost immediately. After a year of basic engineering, Milani went into tactics and combat training. Two years of that and she had been recruited into Starfleet's answer to the CIA: the Intelligence Corps, or IC. Phoebe barely saw her sister after that. She assumed she was off being a spy or secret agent or whatever it was the IC had its operatives do.

To see her here, now, was startling. Phoebe had always assumed that IC employed short term missions. Five years on an exploration ship didn't sound like something that would hit on IC's radar. Maybe her sister had gone in a different direction without telling her about it. Maybe she was just a normal member of the crew.

Something told her that was false hope.

The shuttle docked and crew members filed out the door, Milani the first to go. Phoebe tried to hurry to catch up with her but she was blocked by other bodies trying to disembark. By the time she hit the loading bay floor Milani had disappeared from view.

Not that Phoebe was going to let that stop her. She pushed her way through the crowd of people who trying to figure out which way to go. She made it to a doorway and one step into the corridor when a large object blocked her path. A large man-shaped object. She looked from the blue shirt to the black hair to the surly look on his face. "Dr. McCoy." She concluded, recognizing him from his picture in the files she had been given after she had left the admiral's office.

"You're my new senior officer, Dr. Jacobs?" He asked, looking her up and down. It was more of a 'sizing up' look than 'checking out' look but she still felt compelled to tug on the bottom of her skirt again. Why did they make them wear these short things again?

"That's me." Phoebe replied, tacking on a "Sir," as an afterthought. She glanced over his shoulder to see if she could spot Milani down the hall. No such luck.

"I need you to report to med bay immediately. There is a small crisis with supplies and Dr. Wainwright is next to useless in this situation. The man can stitch an artery in record time but can't organize an empty box." McCoy informed her.

Phoebe blinked. She really needed to hunt down her sister but she couldn't refuse a direct order from her commander. She chewed on her bottom lip in momentary indecision.

"Is there a problem doctor?" McCoy raised an eyebrow at her. Apparently he was used to people hopping at his orders.

"Well, I was going to find-" She started to explain but the look he gave her stopped her mouth from moving. With a nod and apologetic smile she finished, "No problem, Sir. On my way."

She slapped her forehead when she was out of his line of sight. Great first impression with the boss. Defying his first order. Replaying the map of the Enterprise in her head she followed the signs on the walls and her memory to med bay to see what she could do to solve the crisis.

It was two days before Phoebe caught up with her work enough to go looking for her sister. It was the day after launch and Dr. McCoy had dismissed his entire staff so he could reorganize the medicine cabinet in peace. Phoebe had to smile as she thought about him placing each vial carefully in its place, making sure the labels were perfectly centered, facing outward. She barely knew him but she could tell he was a perfectionist.

She wandered down to engineering, taking a moment to marvel at the size of the warp core. She was terrible at mechanics; that had always been her sister's forte. The fact that the glowy lights and steel made this big hunk of metal catapult through space at unimaginable speeds astounded her. The mere thought of the physics behind it made her head hurt.

She was shooed out of engineering by a rather fanatic guy with a Scottish accent. He was insistent that he never bugged the science officers so they had no business nosing around his warp core. Fair enough. She hadn't seen Milani around anyway.

She tried to locate her via the ships terminal but the computer insisted that Milani Jacobs was not aboard the vessel. Frustrated, and now hungry, Phoebe headed toward the mess hall for a brief lunch before she set out on her search again.

The Enterprise had a chef but for dinner meals only. All other meals were made by a replicator. Phoebe ordered a sandwich and a Coke and turned to find a table to sit at. Her eyes landed on a girl sitting by herself at a table, already halfway through a bowl of mac and cheese. Milani.

To look at the two girls you would never know they were sisters. Milani was taller by six inches, not saying much as Phoebe was only five foot one, but still it was a significant difference. Milani's hair was long, dark, and straight; Phoebe's was chestnut, cut at the shoulders, and wavy. Milani had their mother's darker, tan complexion. Phoebe took after their father with pale, porcelain skin and a spattering of freckles. The only thing that matched were their emerald green eyes, a gift from their grandmother as both their parents had blue eyes.

Phoebe had forgotten how stunning her sister was until she slid in the seat across from her. Milani had inherited their mother's exotic looks and beauty. Phoebe considered herself cute enough, but she could never compare to Milani. People had always thought they were joking when they told them they were twins.

"Phoebe." Milani couldn't hide her astonishment. Her eyes were wide and worried.

"Not happy to see me?" Phoebe asked, taking a drink of her Coke to hide the wince of pain at the less than warm welcome.

"I-I," Milani was speechless. Gathering herself she inhaled sharply. "I didn't realize you'd be aboard the Enterprise." Her expression softened a bit. "I've missed you."

"Whatever, Milani, don't be sentimental for my sake." Phoebe frowned.

Her sister returned the frown. "Don't be obstinate, Phoebes. I truly have missed you. We haven't talked in forever."

"Might have something to do with your _job_." Phoebe answered, still not buying that her sister cared to see her.

Milani's eyes dropped to the table. "I know. It's been difficult to do much but work lately. I always think that I'll visit you when I get back to Earth but then I get sent on another mission. It's a bad excuse, but it _is_ my job."

Phoebe felt a pang of guilt at making her sister feel bad. It wasn't like Phoebe tried to get in contact with Milani either. They were both at fault for that. "Yea, it's ok." She sniffed before taking a bite of her sandwich. "I guess I just missed you, too."

"Gee, thanks." Milani rolled her eyes but smiled. A second later she looked around the room as if trying to see if they were being overheard. Satisfied she turned back to Phoebe, her expression serious. "Listen, Phoebes, you can't let anyone know we're sisters."

Phoebe felt a tingle of apprehension. She asked the question she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to. "Why?"

Milani leaned closer over the table and dropped her voice. "You know why. You know what my job is."

"You're spying on your own faction-"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down."

Phoebe dropped her voice to a whisper. "Why would you be doing your job on a Federation ship? A _Starfleet_ ship?"

"Admiral Jensen ordered it." Milani replied. "What else could I do?"

"Admiral Jensen..." Phoebe trailed off, thinking about her own meeting with the admiral. He was determined to keep tabs on the Enterprise crew no matter what the cost.

"Yes. So I would appreciate it if you could pretend like we are just friends from the Academy that lost touch. You know nothing about me, about what my job is, about my life before Starfleet. We're just casual friends." Milani's eyes continued to dart around the room, looking for people who may be eavesdropping.

"The same last name kind of messes that up." Phoebe pointed out.

"I'm Milani Adair here." She replied. "We always keep our same first names. It's the last names that change. So no one will even think to investigate further because I'm not a Jacobs here."

Phoebe couldn't stop herself from asking, "So what is your mission?"

Milani looked at her pointedly. "You know I can't tell you."

"If I am going to keep your secret you have to give me something in return."

"Oh, is that how it works in this family?"

Phoebe stared at her, silent a moment. "You can't pull that card now. You just asked me to not be your sister. So, yes, I need something. So I know I'm doing the right thing."

Milani pressed her lips into a thin line, considering Phoebe's words. "Fine." She hissed. "I will tell you that Admiral Jensen is not sure of this crew's stability. He wants them monitored. Closely."

Phoebe blinked. Her sister had the same mission she had. They were keeping tabs on the crew and reporting back to the admiral. For the next five years. In this way, both girls could be considered spies. "How?" She asked, keeping her own assignment to herself for the moment. "I mean, what is your job on the ship?"

"I'm a senior engineering officer, specializing in weapons control and maintenance. I rotate from engineering to bridge's weapons station, depending on the shift." Milani explained.

Phoebe nodded. "Using those classes from first year." She pointed out.

"And all my knowledge of advanced ship weaponry since then." Milani sighed. "So far it's been easy, but it's only day two."

Phoebe noticed that her sister did not ask her why she was on the ship. She felt a small sense of pride at that, since it meant that Milani figured Phoebe was smart and talented enough to get this assignment without any ulterior motives from the brass. She wished that were true. She would always have to wonder if she was only assigned to the Enterprise due to its need for a psychologist or if it was due to her merits.

Both girls finished their lunches in silence. Milani stood up to leave first, giving her sister a small smile as she left.

Phoebe began the return trip to med bay lost in thought. She would have to be careful not to slip up and betray her sister to the rest of the crew. While it was unlikely that the two girls would run in similar circles, everyone made it down to med bay one way or another.

She walked into the medical facilities to find Dr. McCoy staring at the finished medicine cabinet. As she suspected, every label was centered perfectly to the front, the bottles evenly spaced along the shelves.

"Looks good, Dr. McCoy." Phoebe greeted him, nodding toward the cabinet.

He turned to look at her, startled. He offered her a rare smile. "I may be just a simple country doctor but I can still organize the hell out of a spaceship med cabinet."

"Indeed." Phoebe agreed, returning his smile. It was nice to see him in a cheerful mood. It made his eyes light up and his whole demeanor look more relaxed.

"Let me show you what I did so you can tell the others," he motioned her closer. "Because so help me, if these get out of order-" His expression turned tight at the thought of his cabinet getting messed up.

She rolled her eyes at his back, stepping forward to hear him explain as she muttered under her breath, "There's the Dr. McCoy we all know and love."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Trying to keep ahead of the story by a few chapters before I post them. Working on writing this between homework and other things so it's somewhat slow going. Don't want to post before it's as close to perfect as I can get. Thank you to my few reviewers, and those that are following/liking; glad there are people out there enjoying the story. :)

**Chapter 3**

The first few weeks of exploration were quiet. They were taking the Enterprise out farther than any human vessel had been before and it took time to get there. Lieutenant Commander Scott had tried to make a logical engineering schedule but his color-coded charts were confusing and jumbled. Milani volunteered to help him with the schedule. He liked the end result so much he tacked on "schedule supervisor" to her list of duties. It wasn't something she was looking forward to doing but at least she could set her own hours.

It was coming up on time for her to file her first report to the Admiral. She had been on the bridge nine times in the past three weeks and found nothing unusual about the running of the ship. As there had been no encounters or new planets to explore, the crew members went about their daily tasks quietly and orderly. Milani had noticed that Kirk was beginning to look antsy and bored in the captain's chair. She wasn't sure she was going to report it, however, as it was just speculation.

The night before she was to send her report through the hidden channel Admiral Jensen had set up, Milani couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, counted sheep, and even tried to have the computer play soothing music. Nothing helped. When she asked, the computer informed her it was oh four hundred. Four in the morning. Great.

Throwing on some standard civilian clothes she headed out into the corridor. At this time the Enterprise would be akin to a ghost ship. A skeleton crew would be manning the basic functions while the main crew slept. She probably wouldn't run into another soul. That was ok. She was suddenly craving an ice cream sundae.

She stepped into the mess hall which was, surprisingly, occupied. Captain Jim Kirk was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, eating a bowl of ice cream. Milani froze in place, unsure of what to do. She wasn't sure she was allowed to socialize with the senior officers that weren't in her department. She had spoken few words to the captain and only during her brief shifts on the bridge. Awkwardly she began to back out of the room.

"Where are you going?" She heard him ask while peering at her from across the dim room. The side running lights, set at half strength, were the only illumination in the room. It reminded Milani of the times on Earth when the power went out and her mother would light candles while their father told Phoebe and her stories. Most everything was in shadow but she could still make out the Captain's face.

"I, uh, didn't mean to disturb you..." Milani stammered. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous but every time he looked at her she felt a stab of uneasiness rip through her stomach.

"Not at all. Come, join me." Kirk motioned for her to sit across from him.

Stiffly, she ordered her sundae from the replicator and sat across from him. She wasn't hungry now but she had to have a reason for coming into the mess. She didn't pick up her spoon but stared intently at the hot fudge dripping down the vanilla scoops.

"Milani, right?" Kirk asked her, finishing off his own bowl of ice cream.

Her eyes snapped to his when he said her name from habit. "Yes, Captain." She replied.

He grinned and waved her words off. "Please. Jim." He told her.

"I don't think I'm allowed to use your first name-" She started but he cut her off.

"It's four in the morning, formalities be damned. I think it's ok for you to call me Jim. For right now."

Milani smiled at that. "Ok." She nodded. She attempted a bite of her sundae, hoping she could keep it down. Her stomach felt funny.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked the obvious question.

She shook her head. She couldn't tell him why she wasn't sleeping right now. She couldn't tell him that she was about to file a report on all her superiors, analyzing their decisions, deconstructing their actions, and describing details to the admiral. She couldn't tell him that she felt a little sick about it, even though her first report was going to be short and uneventful.

"Nightmares?" He asked. Milani looked at him a moment before shaking her head again, this time more slowly. He sighed and sat back in the chair. "That's my problem. Nightmares." He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "What would have happened if I had made different decisions last year. Reliving the death of my friend." His eyes dropped to his lap. "My own death," he added quietly.

Milani bit her bottom lip. She couldn't believe that the captain of the Enterprise was being so open about something that could be portrayed as a weakness to a near stranger. "Captain, I-" He gave her a sharp look. She started over. "_Jim_. I'm sorry about what happened. I heard about it. It must be hard." The words sounded cliché and hollow, even in her own head. "It sucks you had to endure something so terrible."

He snorted a small laugh. "Sucks. Wow. I haven't heard that one in a while." He offered her a smile. "Thanks for the sentiment." He sat forward again, scooping his spoon into her rapidly melting sundae. "So enough about me and my tragic history. Why can't _you_ sleep?"

Milani considered her words carefully. "Some nights I just can't turn my brain off."

Kirk chuckled at that. "I don't have that problem. Bones would probably say I turn my brain off too often, even when I'm awake." He peered at her closely. "What does an engineering officer have on her mind that would keep her up at night?"

Milani looked down at the table, trying to think about how to answer that question without outright lying. Kirk mistook her intention. "Sorry, I'm being nosy. You don't have to tell me."

"I feel like I do," she gave him a half-hearted grin. "You are the Captain after all."

He pointed a finger toward her. "Not right now, remember? Just Jim." Now he was eating more of her sundae than she was. After another few bites he changed the direction of conversation. "You okay with being in space for five years? It's a big commitment."

She laughed loudly at that. "A little late to be asking that question!"

He grinned back at her. "I know, but I think it's just now sinking in with some of the crew. Five years away from home. It's a big deal."

"You seem ok with it." Milani pointed out.

He shook his head once before taking the final bite of their ice cream. "My family is here, on this ship. I'm not missing anything." He shrugged. "It's different for me."

Milani sighed inwardly. It was the same for her. Her only family, her sister, was on this ship. She wasn't missing anyone at home, just missing the action packed life she had come to expect. Five years of the same old life on the same old ship was going to be a tough adjustment.

Her mind went to her cover story. The best lies have a lot of truth in them. Almost everything in her back story was true to her real life; only details had been changed so as to hide her true identity.

"I have a sister." She told him. "Back home, on Earth. She's a doctor."

"You miss her?" He raised an eyebrow with the question.

"We weren't close." She replied, running her fingers along the edge of the table in front of her. "Not once I joined the Academy."

He gave her a sympathetic smile but didn't press the issue. Milani wanted to change the topic of conversation but she found herself confiding more to him. "No parents. They...died."

His eyebrows knit together in concern. "I'm sorry." What else could he say?

The gates were open, however and at four o'clock in the morning Milani couldn't close them. Words rushed out of her like a river that had been held back by a dam. A dam that had broken. "Dad was killed by a co-worker. He was a civilian police officer and they were raiding a known drug smuggling operation. It was an accident, the officer was shooting at someone else and fired one too many blasts in that direction. The blaster was supposed to be set to stun, the guy was a rookie, and well..." She trailed off.

Tears pressed against the back of her eyes. It was similar to what had actually happened to her father but not exact. That detail, the small amount of truth she held back, was the only thing keeping her from sobbing. She looked up into empathetic, cerulean eyes. "Sorry, that was more than you wanted to hear." She whispered.

"No, I asked." He reached across the table and covered one of her hands with his. "I'm truly sorry. That's a horrible way to lose a parent."

She thought back to his file and how he lost his father. Sniffing she drew her hand back and wiped away invisible tears. "I'm sorry." She repeated. "I didn't mean to dredge up old memories for you."

"I think about my father every day." Kirk replied, his hand still resting on the table where hers had been a second ago. "It's my motivation to be my best. I try and make him proud with all my decisions." He considered his words a moment before amending them with a crooked grin. "Well, _most_ of my decisions."

Milani giggled softly at that. "I am sorry to have depressed you at so late an hour, Captain- Jim."

"You didn't depress me, Lieuten- Milani." He replied, still grinning. "I am grateful for the company."

"We are close to the first uncharted planet, aren't we?" Milani asked, grateful that she thought of something to turn the tide of the conversation.

"Yes, Sulu promised we'd be in orbit by the end of day tomorrow." His eyes lit up at prospect of adventure. "You'll be on the bridge?"

Milani shook her head. "My schedule has me on the bridge the day after tomorrow."

"Change it."

"Excuse me?"

"Change it." He insisted. "You should be there when we scan the planet for the first time. It will be historical. It might even be epic."

"But Lieutenant Commander Yashi has rank-"

"Beshaw!" Kirk made a funny nose and waved at her. "Rank, schmank. You are assigned to the bridge tomorrow evening. That's an order."

"From Jim?" She grinned.

He returned the smile. "From the Captain."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Hectic life. Between finals and helping my sis look for a house to buy I haven't had time to think about writing. But I have this written up through the next chapter so this weekend I will try and get more down. Thank you for being patient and thank you to those who have taken the time to review. It's short again but when I went back to add more I just couldn't find anything I wanted to change. Hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 4**

They had been staring at each other silently for the last 10 minutes. Phoebe knew the physiology of almost every alien race inside and out but none of that knowledge was going to help her get a Vulcan to talk about his feelings. This was only their second session and she was ready to throw in the towel due to frustration.

Every time she asked him a question he answered with either a single word or a counter on how her question was illogical to ask. She studied his dark hair, pointed ears, and dark eyes carefully. She knew he felt emotions; her few sessions with Uhura confirmed that fact. The idea that he could control them so well was unnerving. His face gave away nothing. He would stare her down the whole hour if she let him.

"We are hours away from our first uncharted planet." She had to try something.

"Correct." He answered.

"Does that interest you? Are you excited about the discovery? Apprehensive about what we'll find?" Phoebe had to get him to talk about something.

"Vulcans have been discovering new worlds far longer than Humans." He answered without really answering.

Swallowing her irritation she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "So you care nothing about the mission of this ship," she attempted to clarify his meaning.

"On the contrary, the mission of the Enterprise is vital to the expansion of Human knowledge. I do anticipate discovering things that even the Vulcans know little about." He tilted his head ever so slightly. "I would not consider myself 'excited' by the prospect, however. It is a logical evolution in Starfleet's development."

She considered him a moment, letting the silence drag out. He was by far the biggest challenge she had faced in her career.

This time he was the one to break the silence. "Dr. Jacobs, I do not wish to discuss my feelings. I think we should terminate our sessions now, as I do not wish to waste your time."

She raised her eyes brows in surprise. "These sessions are mandated by Starfleet. You can't cancel them." Even if they both wanted to.

"I am aware of the orders. It does not change the fact that these sessions are pointless." He responded.

"We don't have to talk about feelings." Phoebe tried a different tactic. "We can discuss your thoughts. You can tell me what you think."

"I think that these sessions are pointless-"

"Ok!" She held up a hand to cut him off. "I get it." She sighed, glancing at her watch. "We're done for today anyway." As he stood up to leave she added, "but I _will _see you for our session in two weeks. Admiral's orders."

He gave her a curt nod before exiting her office. Exhaling in frustration she hid her face in her hands, resting her elbows on her desk. None of the crew had been very cooperative with their counseling sessions but Spock was by far the worst. She was beginning to think he enjoyed torturing her.

"Uh, I can come back," a voice caused her to snap her head up. She blinked a few times before smiling at her next patient.

"No, no, Dr. McCoy, please come in. Have a seat." Phoebe sat up straighter, motioning to the chair across from her, beaming a bright smile.

Obviously uncomfortable he made his way to the chair and sat awkwardly on the edge, resting his forearms on his knees. He looked at her with those dark brown eyes that made her want to melt in a puddle on the floor.

She found herself in another staring match. Dr. McCoy was a close second when it came to challenging patients. Last time she had got him worked up about things that annoyed him and that seemed to go well. But she didn't want every session to be just him ranting at her. Her job was more than just being a sounding board.

"So," she started, "How has the past week been going?"

He frowned, pressing his lips together in a cute sort of pout. Phoebe shook her head and tried to remember she was not allowed to have a crush on one of her patients. Or her boss.

"It's been uneventful-look this is really weird." He cut himself off mid-sentence.

"What's weird?"

He motioned between the two of them. "This."

"The counseling sessions? Or something between the two of us?" She suddenly felt very light headed.

"Both." He responded. "I mean," he lowered his voice, "I'm your CO."

"Oh," she nodded, slightly relieved and saddened at the same time. "I can see how that might be...awkward."

"I just feel weird talking to you about feelings. Hell, I feel weird just talking about feelings in general. But to talk to you about them, then see you in med bay..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"Do you think I hold them against you? Our talks?" Phoebe asked, concerned. "Because I am a professional. What you say in here stays in here. It doesn't make me look at you any different. You're still my commanding officer."

"Well we've only had one session." He pointed out. "We haven't really got to the nitty gritty of my soul." Now there was a smidge of humor in his tone.

"Do you plan on sharing soul shattering secrets?" She smiled.

"Probably not." He conceded.

"As I have said with other patients, this is not necessarily about feelings. You can talk about whatever in here. What you think, what you remember, what you want for the future. This is a safe place." She knew how cheesy it sounded but it was true. She wished her patients on the ship felt more comfortable talking to her. It was her job, after all, to listen to them and counsel them on working through their issues.

"Here's the thing, Doc." McCoy sat back in his chair. "I don't know you. I mean, I know your file, forward and backward. I know how you work in the med bay, which is excellent by the way. But I just met you. These meetings have been ordered by some bureaucrat at Starfleet for who knows what reason. I'm not coming here by choice."

"You don't trust me." Phoebe finished his thought for him.

"I don't _know_ you," he repeated. "It's hard to confide in a stranger, especially when you're being forced to."

He had a valid point. Normally people went to a counselor by choice when they had a problem. These crew members were being told they had a problem and _had_ to come to sessions with her. No wonder she was getting nowhere with them.

"Well then," she smiled at him again. "Let's use these sessions as 'getting to know you' meetings. Forget about the psychology of it all."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll start. I grew up as a Starfleet brat. My parents were both enlisted though they were never actually on a ship. My dad...my dad was an instructor for the security division." She stopped for a moment. Unbelievable. Here it was, Dr. McCoy's session, and she was the one getting choked up with emotion.

"Was?" He asked softly.

"Yes, was." She took control, speaking loudly and pushing back the threatening emotions. She still wasn't over the death of her father. She didn't think she ever would be. "He was killed on the job. An accident." With a forced smile she met his eyes. "Your turn."

He paused a minute before visibly relaxing. "I grew up in Georgia, on a farm. My mother was the local doctor, which meant she was the doctor for four farming towns. She was great at her job." He pressed his lips together in that adorable pout again. "I try to be at least half as good as she was." He looked Phoebe in the eye. "She's retired now."

Phoebe nodded. "See. Wasn't so hard." She gave him a small grin.

"Look, about your dad-" He began but was cut off by the com in the room beeping to signal an incoming call.

"Yes?" Phoebe asked.

"Captain Kirk requests Dr. McCoy to the bridge immediately." It was unmistakably Ensign Chekov's voice.

"On my way." McCoy replied, standing from the chair. "Dr. Jacobs," he paused as if he weren't sure how to finish that thought.

"I'll see you in med bay. Like this never happened." She promised. He nodded once, giving her a rare half smile before walking out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **So discussing this story with my sister I feel obligated to point out that Kirk may seem slightly ooc. This is intentional. I can't tell you why yet but his behaviors, actions, and dialogue will all be explained in later chapters as the story unfolds. Also there is lots of exposition and story telling in these chapters. I am revving up to write more action scenes which are more of what I like to write. But there is a story that needs to be told in the inbetweens.

Also, for the people who have commented on the two story lines: Phoebe's chapters give you insight into the characters, Milani's are more to progress the story along. It also gives me the chance to write two very different romances in one story. I hope its not too confusing. Anyway, on with the show...

**Chapter 5**

"We're in orbit, Captain." Sulu informed the bridge, sliding his fingers across his console.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Magnify on screen." Kirk replied, his eyes focused on the giant screen in front of him. The planet popped up for a closer inspection onto the viewer. It reminded Milani of Earth but with the colors inverted; it seemed to be a large planet, blue and green and brown, but the blue was much less than the other colors. This planet had limited water resources.

"Scans?" Kirk asked.

"Still working on them, Captain." Spock replied, rapidly tapping the workstation in front of him.

Milani looked down at her own console. She had automated it to look for signs of trouble such as other ship signatures or a weapons lock on the Enterprise. So far everything was quiet.

"The atmosphere is hydrogen rich, not compatible with any species onboard the Enterprise." Dr. McCoy was looking at his PADD, standing a few feet away from the captain.

"Temperatures are also high due to the proximity of their sun." Spock confirmed, turning to look at Kirk.

"Technology?" Kirk asked.

"No ships in the area, defensive or otherwise." Milani reported.

Spock's console beeped as he turned back to it. "They are a pre-warp society. Protocol states that we cannot interfere or be seen by the planet's inhabitants."

"I know what protocol says, thank you Commander." Kirk reminded his first officer. He stood and walked toward the screen, stopping at the console between Sulu and Chekov. "This is our first planet discovery on this mission. The first uncharted planet."

Milani dragged her finger across the map that was appearing on her screen. There was advanced technology on the surface but only that of which she could equate to the late 1900s in Earth's development. Seeing a starship would be a huge ding against the Prime Directive.

"We'll beam a team down." Kirk finally spoke. He turned to find Spock standing and frowning at him. "Discretely." Kirk assured him. "Collect a few samples for our records. As we cannot breathe their air, no interaction with indigenous life will be permitted."

Spock nodded once, acknowledging the captain's orders. "The Captain will be leading the away team?"

"No." Kirk replied, sitting back in his chair. "Spock, you and Bones are going to lead this mission. Choose a team and get moving."

"But Captain-" Spock started.

"I don't want to-" Dr. McCoy sputtered.

"That's an order." Kirk cut them off.

Both men hesitated before responding in unison, "Yes, Sir." Spock followed McCoy into the turbo lift.

Milani was desperate to ask Kirk what that was all about. There was something going on under the surface of that exchange but she had no clue what it was. She kept one eye on Kirk and the other on her station. Her job was now to monitor the ground crew when they landed to make sure there were no hostile threats in their vicinity. She had some time until the away team landed.

Kirk was staring intently at the tiny screens on the arms of his chair, smashing his fingers onto the buttons and symbols. He seemed irritated. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but it would be against regulations and protocol.

She looked at her monitor when it beeped. There were five people on the away team. Their name, rank, and picture popped up as they were assigned to the mission and logged into the computer. There was Spock, McCoy, Thompsen who was a low level security crewman she recognized, and two science officers. One was her sister. Milani touched Phoebe's picture to select it. She stared at the button at the bottom of the screen that would let her talk directly to Phoebe. She felt like she should say 'good luck,' or 'be careful.' But she couldn't risk blowing her cover. She deselected Phoebe, put all five of her fingers on each picture and dragged them over to the drop box on the screen that would let Uhura monitor their communications.

She glanced back up at the captain. Kirk was agitated. His expression was dour and he couldn't sit still in his chair. Something was wrong.

She opened her mouth to say something but Kirk spoke before she could. That was good, she wasn't quite sure what she had been going say. "Lieutenant Adair. A word." He stood and headed toward the lift. "Chekov, you have the con."

Milani hesitated a moment. All eyes on the bridge were on her, not the captain. She rose from her seat and before she was two steps away her replacement was in her chair. That was the way it ran on a starship; there was typically a back-up for the back-up in every scenario. She joined Kirk in the lift.

They rode in silence for a moment. "Is there something you need, Captain?" Milani asked, unable to take the intense quiet one more second.

Kirk reached out and stopped the lift. "I just needed off the bridge." He said, beginning to pace in the small space.

"As captain I would think you loved the bridge." Milani was unsure of what he was trying to say to her. She stood at attention, hands lightly clasped behind her back, staring straight forward. She wasn't sure how formal she was supposed to be in a turbo lift with the captain of the ship but she wasn't taking any chances. His pacing, however, made her nervous.

"I do," he insisted. "But the pressure of this mission. Ever since..." He trailed off before slamming a fist into the lift wall. It hadn't been a very hard punch but it still made Milani wince. "I need action. This planet doesn't allow for it. I was hoping..."

"You were hoping for a fight," Milani was so surprised she turned to look at him.

"No!" Kirk shook his head but he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I wanted contact. I wanted to explore. I wanted...to do more."

"A lot of planets are going to be pre-warp, Captain." Milani gave him a small frown. "You're not going to be making a lot of first contacts."

"I know." He nodded before repeating himself, "I know." This time he did meet her eyes. "I've been very impatient." He told her.

"I see." She pressed her lips together into a thin line as she thought of how to address this situation. First of all, she wasn't sure why he called _her_ into the turbo lift. She was not a counselor or even that high of a ranking bridge officer. Why was he seeking advice from her?

Secondly, she had no idea how to address his situation. Obviously he was one of those people that needed life to full of action and drama but who was to say that wasn't because of what happened last year? Maybe his death had changed him.

"Captain, you have five years to do a lot of the things you want to do. Every day isn't going to be epic but everyday advances us toward our goals. The goal of this ship is scientific, not military. Think of all the plants that Dr. McCoy might find down there that may help mankind, may cure diseases. Think about this society and how close they are to developing some type of warp drive. You may not meet the species that inhabit this planet, but some day our kids might. You're just the first. You're not the last."

Kirk took a deep breath as she spoke, visibly calming down. "You're right, of course." He nodded, looking toward the turbo lift door. "I think I just needed to hear someone say it. I've had some..." He looked at her sideways before continuing, "problems expressing myself lately. I didn't want the whole bridge to see me...upset."

She tilted her head as she considered him. "You're used to a certain way of life on a starship. I get it. Who could blame you? Every time you've been out something intense has happened."

Milani realized that he was a lot like her in that way. She missed the adrenaline rush of being on her covert missions where any second could mean a battle for her life. She missed the strategy meetings where she and her team would determine the best course of action for the upcoming mission, decisions that could mean life or death. That had been her life for years. Sitting on a ship in the middle of the expanse with nothing but five years of scientific discoveries in front of you was not only daunting but potentially boring. Milani did not like to be bored.

"Not every day is a life or death situation." He agreed with her. He reached forward to start the lift again. "I should probably be happy about that."

"Or get used to it." Milani smiled. "It's not easy."

Kirk looked at her and returned the grin. "Hey," He asked just before the lift doors opened to the bridge. "Did I hear you say 'our kids?' Are you implying-"

She felt her cheeks get warm as she realized what he was saying. "No! I only meant-"

He chuckled. "Just a joke, Milani." The turbo lift opened and he stepped back onto the bridge. "Back to your station, Lieutenant Adair."

She resumed her position, head spinning. She was clueless as to why he singled her out to vent his frustration. Whatever his reason, he seemed more relaxed in his captain's chair now. Crisis averted. For the moment.


End file.
